


The Gang Goes to Walmart

by myth_taken



Category: Angel: the Series, Walmart - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 06:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8737561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myth_taken/pseuds/myth_taken
Summary: Automatic door sensors don't work on vampires, and Angel needs someone to accompany him to Walmart. Suddenly, everyone is interested in a group outing. Fred wants to take home all the fish. Cordelia gets lost in the makeup aisle. All the employees are vampires. Angel just wants his knives.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no clue when this is set. I think it's a vague s3 thing, but I honestly just don't remember. This is also completely unedited; I put too much effort into it just by writing it. Thanks to wlwbuffy on tumblr for egging me on and coming up with a lot of ideas.

Angel pushed his chair away from his desk. “Hey, Cordy, can you help me with something?” 

Cordelia stood up. “Depends what that something is.”

“Come to Wal-mart with me?”

Cordelia sat back down. “No way. The lighting in that store is  _ death _ for my complexion.”

“Please?”

“Why do you even need me to go? Can’t you go get your cheap stuff in peace? By which I mean, without me?”

“Look, Cordelia.” Angel stood up. “I just need a friend to go with me. That’s all.”

“Seriously? Big boy Angel over here needs a buddy to go to Walmart?” Cordelia scoffed. “No way.”

“Maybe I just like company.” At the look on Cordelia’s face, Angel sighed. “You know how I don’t show up in mirrors?”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow. “That would be relevant if Walmart were a mirror maze.”

“It carries over to automatic doors. I can’t get in without a human to help.”

“Can’t you get Wesley?”

“Do you want to be the one to ask him?”

Angel and Cordelia both jumped as the door banged open. “Ask him what?”

Wesley was standing in the doorway of the hotel, holding grocery bags in both arms.

“Broodyboy here needs someone to accompany him to Walmart,” Cordelia explained, “so that he might get past the automatic door.”

Wesley strode towards Angel and Cordelia, stopping to put his groceries on the front desk along the way. “So it’s true, then. Vampires cannot trigger automatic doors.” 

“Yeah, I know, I’m a great opportunity for some supernatural science,” Angel said. “But I really just need to go to Walmart.”

“Science?”

Everyone turned to see who had arrived. It was Fred, looking lost and unanchored at the bottom of the stairs. 

“I sure do like science,” Fred said.

“Unfortunately,” Wesley told her, “there is a distinct lack of science in our current plans. Angel needs a human to accompany him to Walmart.”

“Oh, I don’t like Walmart.” Fred backed up, almost hitting the stairs. “Unless they still have fish! I do like the fish.”

“Perhaps you ought to accompany Angel, then,” Wesley said.

“Oh, no, thanks. Lots of strangers at a Walmart. Maybe if you all were going.”

Gunn came out of an adjoining office. “Going where?”

“Look, guys,” Angel said, “I really didn’t want it to come to this.”

“And yet, it has,” Wesley replied.

“What’s come to what?” Gunn asked.

“Angel needs someone to go to Walmart with him so he can get past the automatic doors,” Cordelia said.

Gunn stared at Angel. “What does a guy like you even need at Walmart?”  

“Things, okay?” 

Everyone stared at him.

“I need knives.”

Aghast, Wesley blurted, “What do you need knives for when we have our own weapons cabinet?”

“Kitchen knives,” Angel clarified.

“You don’t eat,” Gunn said.

“I’m doing an art project,” Angel said.

“So, what,” Cordelia interjected, “you’re almost done with your cardboard cutout of Buffy, and all you need to do now is actually cut it out?”

“It’s more of an abstract sculpture,” Angel answered. He took in everyone’s blank stares.  “I just wanted to try something new. It’s been two hundred years.”

“So you have to go buy knives at Walmart,” Cordelia said. 

“Yeah, pretty much.” Angel shrugged. “Side effect of being bored.”

“And you want us all to come with you?” Cordelia asked.

“One of you,” Angel said. “I don’t need the whole gang.”

A grin crept across Cordelia’s face. “Who wants a group outing?” she asked.

Everyone else looked at each other and shrugged.

“No demons on the watchlist,” Gunn said. “Might as well have some fun.”

Ten short minutes later, they found themselves in front of a local Walmart. 

“Once more into the breach, good friends,” Wesley proclaimed. 

“Stop being pretentious,” Cordelia scoffed, and she marched up to and through the doors. 

Everyone else looked at each other, shrugged, and entered the store.

“It’s so bright,” Fred said. “Brighter than a cave, anyway.”

“Brighter than lots of things,” Wesley said, voice hollow with awe. 

Angel looked around. “So, where are the knives?”

They barely got three steps in when a familiar voice rang out behind them.

“Angelcakes!”

Angel sighed and turned around. “Hi, Lorne.”

“What brings you to this particular hell?” Lorne asked, taking off his sunglasses to greet Angel.

“I just need knives,” Angel said. Watching Lorne’s intake of breath, he added, “Just, don’t ask.”

Lorne backed away, raising his hands in a defensive position. “Okay. Sounds like Angel needs to blow off some steam. I’ll be by the country music if you need anything from me.”

He wandered away, leaving the others to explore on their own.

The first thing Fred noticed was the fish. She beelined towards the aisle of tanks, staring in at scaled bodies and round eyes that seemed determined not to stare back whatever they did.

Wesley went after her, but Angel was intent on finding his knives. Cordelia ditched him the minute she saw cheap eyeshadow, and Gunn stopped at the Halloween costumes, saying, “Angel, have you ever considered being this pink bunny thing for Halloween?”

“No way in Hell,” Angel answered, and he pushed on, ignoring the fact that his friends had all abandoned him in favor of more interesting pursuits. There was nothing, nothing at all, that could come between him and his knives.

“Oh, hello, Angel. Fancy seeing you here.” Spike stepped in front of Angel. “What brings you to this particular branch of Hell today?”

“Get out of my way, Spike.”

Spike stepped closer. “I rather think not. You see, I’m going that way, and you’re going this way, and I see this as an opportunity for some lovely stalemate.”

Angel rolled his eyes. “Why are you even here? Last I heard, you were in Sunnydale, playing domesticated wolf for Buffy.”

“Yeah, well, you heard wrong,” Spike retorted. “I’m a free man. I do what I want.”

“And what you want is to go to a Walmart in Los Angeles?” Angel shook his head, tried to push past Spike again, and was blocked again. “I’m having trouble believing that.”

“What I  _ want _ ,” Spike answered, “is to get the little brat a goldfish to make her stop crying.”

Angel laughed. “Is that a soul I detect?”

Spike scowled. “No. I don’t need a soul to become soft. I’m not like some vampires.”

“Oh, right,” Angel said. “You just need a chip in your head. Same thing, except yours has no bearings on your morality.”

“At least I’m not wracked with guilt,” Spike answered.

“At least I’ve never gone all the way to Los Angeles to get Dawn Summers a goldfish.” Angel tried and failed to push past Spike again. “Why did you come so far, anyway? Surely there’s a pet store in Sunnydale.”

“They’re more expensive,” Spike answered. “And I’ve been to every Walmart between here and Sunnydale, I’ll have you know. They’re all out of goldfish. They said to me, they said, ‘Would a red fish do? How about our betta fish?’ And I said, nope, it’s got to be a goldfish. So here I am, looking in yet another hellscape for Dawn’s bloody goldfish.”

Angel started laughing, and once he started, it was too hard to stop, and he really didn’t want to, so he wound up doubled over and guffawing in the middle of Walmart. 

“Hey!” Spike yelled. “Stop that!”

Angel straightened up and tried to hold in his laughter. “Sorry,” he said, a few giggles escaping. “I just can’t believe you’ve come this far for a goldfish.”

“She’s going to name it after me.” Spike drew himself up to a proud stance. “Says I’m good enough and all that. Or maybe she said memorable.”

“I wouldn’t call you good,” Angel said. “Memorable, though. You could make a case for memorable.”

Meanwhile, Fred had found the very goldfish for which Spike’s lack of soul yearned. 

“Hi, goldfish,” she said, squatting to look into the tank. “It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Fred. What’s yours?” 

“I don’t think the fish can answer you,” Wesley said, lowering himself to Fred’s level. “It’s not equipped with vocal folds the way humans are.”

“I know.” Fred leaned closer to the glass. “I just like giving them a chance.” She turned to look at Wesley. “You know, just in case this is the world’s only talking goldfish.”

“Ah.” Wesley’s eyes gleamed with pretension. “So you believe that that which does not occur in our past experience may still occur later. Your experiences do not define how you see the world.”

“Well, I know it probably won’t talk back. But I do like to say hi.” Fred waved to the fish. “It hasn’t answered, though, so I think I have to name it myself.” She studied the fish. “I’m thinking Curie.”

“After Marie?”

“Yeah. Do you have any ideas?”

Wesley thought a moment. “Have you considered Aristotle?” he asked. “An excellent philosopher, and an excellent name.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never read Aristotle. I’ve read what Curie wrote.” Fred stood up straight, and Wesley followed. “How do you keep all those words in your head? I looked through it once. Souls, and substances, and forms, and it’s all too big for my head.”

“As physics is too big for mine,” Wesley answered. “And anyway, I believe that being too big for one’s head is rather the point of philosophy.”

“Oh.” Fred shook her head. “I prefer my physics. It’s much easier to understand when there are numbers right there explaining it.”

“But you don’t have to understand it,” Wesley argued. “You only must think about it, and if you have thought about it, you have done your job.”

Fred shrugged. “I’m still naming the fish Curie.”

“As is your prerogative, assuming you buy the fish. Perhaps I will buy a fish of my own and name it Aristotle.”

“Do you think our fishes will be friends?” Fred asked.

“If they aren’t, they shall be terribly lonely,” Wesley answered. “I do hope they find friendship in each other.”

“Me too,” Fred said. She stepped back and looked at all the tanks. “I feel bad for all these fish. Do you think people will buy all these fish? I don’t think they can be very healthy. You know, I read that fish need a lot of room to swim around in. These fish don’t look like they have much room.”

Wesley looked hard at Fred. “What are you planning?”

Fred was still gazing at the fish. “Do you think it would cost too much to buy all of them?”

“It would cost far more to take care of them properly,” Wesley said. “Fish need rather large tanks, and filters are quite expensive.”

Fred thought a moment. “I’ve been saving my money. I didn’t know what for, but I guess I do now.” She looked around, and, seeing a Walmart employee at the end of the aisle, she called out. “Miss? I want to buy these fish.”

The employee hurried over. “Which ones?”

“I want to buy them all,” Fred said. 

The employee looked at Wesley. “Does she do this a lot?”

“I don’t actually spend that much time with her outside of work,” Wesley answered, “but I would hazard a guess at no.”

“I bought a cat once,” Fred said. “But it was just one cat. I named him Einstein. His fur was all long and gray.”

The employee nodded. “Well, come with me. I’ll show you where we keep the portable tanks.”

Fred and Wesley both followed the employee further into the depths of the Walmart, finally winding up in a tiny back room.

“I sure don’t see any tanks,” Fred said. Her voice shook a little.

The employee smiled and growled, and Wesley immediately whipped a cross out of his pocket just as the employee’s eyes yellowed.

“Back, fiend!” he yelled.

“I’ll get Angel!” Fred cried, running out of the room. She tore through the Walmart, yelling Angel’s name, but she ran into Gunn first. He was dressed in some sort of giraffe onesie, but the instant Fred told him there were vampires, he was on his way to the back. She finally found Angel standing with another man, both ready to explode.

“Angel, there’s a vampire in the back room,” Fred said. “It almost got me and Wesley, but we knew what to do, and there might be more, and please help us!”

The unknown man laughed. “Keeping pets, now, Angel? This one’s not as blonde as usual. You’re growing up.”

Angel glared. “Fred’s not-- she works for me. I have friends, too, you know.”

“Can we stop the arguing and focus on the vampires?” Fred asked.

“But I am the vampires,” the strange man said.

“Not everything’s about you, Spike,” said Angel. “Where are the vampires, Fred?”

Fred opened her mouth to answer, but was startled by a voice from behind Angel.

“Everywhere, my friend.”

Angel spun around and whipped out a stake, dusting the employee-vampire before she had the chance to say anything else. 

“My guess is they run the store. We have to find Gunn and Cordelia.”

“Gunn’s looking for Wesley,” Fred said. “Cordelia’s probably still looking for eyeshadow.”

“Wesley and Gunn can handle themselves,” Angel said. “Cordelia probably didn’t even bring a stake.”

“Hold on a minute,” Spike interrupted. “You have  _ Cordelia _ working for you?”

Angel didn’t answer. Instead, he  yelled, “Duck!” to Fred and rammed his stake into the vampire standing behind her. He then ran off, Fred running after, leaving Spike standing alone in the middle of the store. 

“Oh, bugger,” he sighed, and ran after Fred and Angel. 

Half an hour later, every vampire in the store was dead, and everybody but Cordelia was standing by the register. Angel was holding his knives, Lorne was holding a tower of records, and Fred was sending anxious looks in the direction of the fish aisle. 

Cordelia ran up, holding a basket full of makeup. Her eyes were shining. 

“This stuff is worth thirty dollars, total. It's a real bargain.” Everyone stared at her. “What? A bargain is a bargain.”

“Cordelia,” Wesley said, “we staked the clerks.”

“What do you mean?” Cordelia asked. 

“He means,” Gunn said, “that it doesn't matter how much it costs. There's no one to sell it to us. We might as well take it.”

Wesley glared at Gunn. “That's inadvisable.”

“Why?” asked Cordelia. “It's like payment. We got rid of the vampires, and now we get free stuff.”

Angel looked at Wesley and shrugged. “All I'm taking is knives “

Fred was edging closer and closer to the fish aisle. “Does someone want to help me carry all the fish?”

“Only if you let me take a goldfish with me,” Spike said. 

“You have to take care of it,” Fred told him. 

“Not a problem,” Spike promised. 

The fish didn't all fit in Angel's car, but Angel promised Fred that he would let her take his car back to get the rest. They were just about to leave when they heard running footsteps from behind the car. 

Everyone turned around in their seats, careful not to disturb the goods on their laps and on the floor in front of them. Coming towards them they saw Buffy, Willow, Xander, Giles,  and Dawn, all looking livid.

Angel got out of the car and stood to intercept the others. “Why are you here?” he asked.

“Where’s Spike?” Buffy growled.

“He left,” Angel said. “Sorry. You’re too late.”

“Left for  _ where _ ?” Buffy asked.

Fred raised her hand from inside the car. “He’s going back to Sunnydale. Y’all might want to get there first.”

Buffy sighed and turned to her friends. “Let’s go.”

“Yes, let’s,” Wesley said to Angel. 

Angel got back in the car and drove off.

The next day, he invited Fred, Wesley, Gunn, and Cordelia to see his sculpture. Everyone stared at it for a few minutes without speaking, and Angel looked between the four of them. “Is there something wrong with it?”

Everyone looked at each other.

“No, but it looks a lot like that Buffy chick we met yesterday,” Gunn said.

Cordelia scoffed. “I  _ knew  _ you weren’t over her.”

Angel stared at them in horror. “No, it’s abstract. See, the knives symbolize the danger of being a vampire who hunts vampires.”

“It looks to me like the knives symbolize Buffy’s hair,” Cordelia said.

Angel sighed. “Will I never get peace?”

“It doesn’t seem likely,” Wesley answered.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Look out for the potential sequel about the brand new hotel aquarium that Fred's gonna start...


End file.
